


Don’t Suffer, But Take the Pain

by LaurenCrabtree



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Dream Cycle - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Blood, Degradation, M/M, Mentions of Walter Gilman and Richard Pickman, Nyarlathotep Is Not Nice, Punishment, Spanking, Spiked Paddles, implied sexual slavery, mentions of amputation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurenCrabtree/pseuds/LaurenCrabtree
Summary: Months after being kidnapped by Nyarlathotep, Randolph Carter tries to escape and Nyarlathotep punishes him for it.





	Don’t Suffer, But Take the Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bad Things Happen Bingo; an anon requested Rantep + Grabbed by the Chin. If you want to request a fic or just chat, you can find me on Tumblr at @laurencrabtree.

“You aren’t going _anywhere._ ”

 

The moment Nyarlathotep said those words, Carter regretted even trying to escape. He cheered against the now-locked door, praying that Nyarlathotep would go easy on him. He was forced to look up when the Outer God gently grabbed his chin, tilting Carter’s head up to look him in the eyes.

 

“We’ve already been through this.” The words were steady, but still tinged with condescending disappointment. Nyarlathotep began to lift Carter off the ground, still holding him only by his chin. It hurt, but the human said nothing. “I don’t know why you always want to do this the hard way, Randolph Carter.” He set Carter down on the bed, and while the mattress was deceptively soft, Carter had a feeling that he knew what was coming.

 

That feeling was correct. Not two seconds later, Carter felt the first strike on his ass from an unknown implement. It was far more painful than what Nyarlathotep usually did; he had only been hit once and it already felt like his skin had been broken. When he dared to look behind him, he realized that it had—the paddle in Nyarlathotep’s hands was studded with rows of small but sharp spikes, many of which were now coated in his blood.

 

“You’re lucky I like you this much,” Nyarlathotep said, his voice sharp and low. “Were you anyone else, I’d have given you to a much more violent god in a heartbeat.” Carter knew that Nyarlathotep wasn’t lying; he had seen what had happened to Walter and Richard and so many others, and he dreaded the thought of suffering the same fate.

 

“Perhaps,” Nyarlathotep continued, bringing the paddle down on Carter’s ass once again, “I will indeed have to take a cue from some of them. How I would do it with completely breaking your will, though, I don’t know… I do like my humans to be a little rebellious.” Carter swore he could feel each and every one of the thin spikes as they withdrew from his flesh. He could feel blood beginning to flow on his skin, too; hopefully Nyarlathotep wouldn’t keep at this for too long.

 

“But I can’t have you escaping again, so I will say this.” The paddle came down a third time, and then a fourth. “Try to escape again and I _will_ cut your legs off.”

 

Carter found himself torn on whether to heed this threat or not; he knew that Nyarlathotep could regenerate his legs. The real question, though, was if the Outer God would _want_ to do so. He could feel himself beginning to cry, both because of the pain and Nyarlathotep’s threat.

 

His train of thought was interrupted when the paddle struck him yet again.

 

“I’m going to hit you five more times,” Nyarlathotep said. His voice had not wavered once, which spoke volumes for how many times he had done this but said nothing for how much he enjoyed it. “And then we can get you cleaned up.” Carter felt somewhat relieved by this, even as he was struck with the paddle once again. Ten hits was less than he had expected. “I’ll only heal you partially, though—can’t have you forgetting this too soon.”

 

Carter’s relief lessened at that—not only would it be painful on its own, Nyarlathotep would also undoubtedly want to fuck him tonight. He prayed that that was the extent of the Outer God’s plans for him. He screamed again as he was hit a seventh time, and only then did he realize that he had been biting his lip. The coppery taste of his own blood hadn’t even registered in his mind until now.

 

The last three hits came in quick succession, with no words from Nyarlathotep—evidently, he had already made his point. There was a soft thump as the paddle was set down on the floor, and Carter felt himself being lifted up into the Outer God’s arms.

 

“You took that so well,” Nyarlathotep said, his voice considerably more gentle than before. “I’m rather surprised, actually… You didn’t even talk back once.” Truly, Carter knew that doing so wouldn’t have done him any good, but he wasn’t about to say as much. “Now, no more trying to escape, okay?” Reluctantly, Carter nodded—he would certainly try to escape again, but he would wait longer this time, wouldn’t make any rash decisions like he had done today. As Nyarlathotep carried him to the bathroom, Carter allowed himself to close his eyes. He could take in his surroundings later; for now, the exhaustion brought on by the punishment was too much. The last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep was the sound of running bathwater, and while he knew he wasn’t truly safe, he knew that he was at least able to let himself relax.


End file.
